Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) Read Online Free Page A

perfect place for Your Worship." He presses his lips to my forehead.
    "I'm Your Worship now?"
    "You don't want me on my knees?"
    I laugh. A full blown belly laugh. It eases the tension brewing in my shoulders. Miles makes me happy. Miles brings me joy.
    We can do this.
    We have to be able to do this.

Chapter Four
    ––––––––
    M egara
    We can't do this.
    None of the twelve places we visit are right. The hotel garden isn't right. The church of Elvis isn't right. The poolside altar isn't right.
    The last stop, a tiny chapel downtown, is the worst yet. The walls are a garish mix of orange and neon green. The woman manning the counter is wearing last night's makeup. Her clown red hair is in a frizzy perm straight out of an 80s movie.
    She looks at us with faint irritation as she takes a drag of her cigarette. "We have ten spots today. Each spot is fifteen minutes. For an extra two hundred dollars, you can add fifteen minutes of photography." She recites the words without a hint of passion. "Samples of our photography packages are available on the wall behind you."
    I turn so I can take in these so-called photography packages. They're as tacky as the interior of the chapel. It's not beautiful or special. These weddings look like accidents.
    I close my eyes and sink into his touch. Something is missing. I can't picture us here. I can't picture us at the top of the Stratosphere, in the hotel ballroom, in the garden.
    Miles takes a slow, steady breath. "We'll find something. Trust me."
    I look up at him. That same certainty is in his eyes. I do trust him. But- "I've had enough for today."
    He nods and pulls me closer. "Kara and Drew are flying in. We're meeting them tomorrow morning. She can help you with your dress. I'll take care of the rest."
    "You're going to find a wedding venue?"
    "You doubt me?"
    No, but- "This is sudden."
    "Trust me. I've got it."
    He leans down to kiss me.
    His lips are soft. He tastes good.
    Slowly, my senses shift back into focus. Warmth floods my body. Then desire. My hands go to his messy hair. My back arches. My crotch presses against his.
    I do trust him.
    I want him.
    I love him.
    Hell, I need him. I need him like I need oxygen.
    ***
    A fter a long evening making up for lost time, I take a shower, change into my new hot pink Las Vegas pajamas, and collapse in bed.
    For sleep, this time.
    This still feels like a dream. Starting at my nail, I trace the ring finger of my left hand. Chapped skin, hard bones, the bump of the knuckle, and my engagement ring.
    Marriage is as forever as it gets.
    I want that with him.
    I want everything with him.
    He slides his arms around me and presses his lips to my forehead. His voice is nervous. "You still excited?"
    I nod. "And scared."
    "That's normal."
    "You're scared?"
    "I miss you when I'm away. It hurts." He runs his fingers through my wet hair. "Used to be, I thought it was easier, never getting invested in anything enough to hurt."
    "Me too."
    "It's not. Better to have seven months a year of joy and five where I miss you enough it hurts to breathe."
    "Really?"
    He nods. "I'd rather it be ten months with you and two away, but I can make this work. If you want me around more, all you have to do is ask."
    I trace the tattoos on his chest and shoulders. Each is another piece of his heart. A fierce dragon scaring off anyone who tries to get too close. A rose covered in thorns, enticing, beautiful and guarded. Spread wings, ready to fly away from everything that hurts.
    And those words.
    Be Brave, Live.
    Megara.
    His chest heaves with his inhale and falls with his exhale. His eyes are closed.
    He's asleep.
    I do want more of him. I want 365 days of him. But I'm never going to ask for that. He needs the stage. I need medicine.
    We just have to figure out how to balance the two.
    Somehow.
    For the better part of an hour, I try to sleep. Around three A.M., I give up and go to the main room. The lights of The Strip flow in through the window. Even at three